


my darling, hold me tight

by sushiboy



Category: ONF (Band), Pentagon (Korea Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 01:48:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24865579
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sushiboy/pseuds/sushiboy
Summary: When Seungjoon smiles, it’s all teeth, and his eyes scrunch up into half moons. Hwitaek thinks he could probably write a song about that.
Relationships: Lee Hwitaek | Hui/Lee Seungjoon | J-US
Comments: 11
Kudos: 119





	my darling, hold me tight

**Author's Note:**

> sometimes u just need to cope with rtk by writing huijoon ♡ also yes i bully hongseok yes i am still in love with him we exist
> 
> title from let's go together by pentagon on god kim hyojong stop making me CRY every time i listen to this song

It’s not like Hwitaek never had a crush on someone before Seungjoon. Most of the teasing he endures from his group members is entirely unfounded and a result of Hongseok attempting to divert the attention away from his own messy love life. Hwitaek knows his deal—the other boys do too, but they’re much more willing to play along to get the opportunity to make fun of their leader. But he still feels the sharp twist of embarrassment when Hongseok talks about it in front of the cameras. 

Hwitaek’s not inexperienced—he’s liked people in the industry, girls and guys, and he’s even dated a few, but Hongseok still insists he’s never liked anyone like he’s liked Seungjoon. 

“You’re insane,” Hwitaek tells him. “Just because you thrive on drama doesn’t mean you have to convince me I’m in love with him.” 

“I’m not trying to convince you, dumbass,” Hongseok replies. He’s doing pushups in the middle of the practice room, even though they’ve just finished a twelve hour long rehearsal. Hwitaek _hates_ him. “I’m just telling it as it is. You haven’t stopped smiling at your phone for weeks.” 

Hwitaek waves his hand in the air dismissively from where he’s stretching out his calves. “Well, yeah. He’s funny and I like him, but it’s just proximity, right? Once filming is over, I probably won’t see him again.” 

Hongseok pushes himself up to his knees and shrugs. “Considering how good Wooseok and Jaeyoung are getting along right now, I wouldn’t count on it.” Hwitaek rolls his eyes. “Listen, hyung,” Hongseok says. “Do whatever you want but when you realize how bad you have it for this guy, then don’t come to me for advice, alright?” 

“With your track record, you’re literally not qualified to give me any,” Hwitaek replies spitefully. 

Hongseok snorts. “Yeah, that’s fair. You know who is, though?”

“I’m not calling Hyojong,” Hwitaek shoots back, because he knows Hongseok well enough to know exactly what he’s going to say.  
  
“Okay,” Hongseok says. “You’re going to end up calling Hyojong, though.” 

“I’m _not_ calling Hyojong,” Hwitaek repeats indignantly. Hongseok is an asshole, so he just smirks and throws the towel he’s using to wipe off his sweat over his shoulder.

“See you at home, Hui-hyung,” Hongseok teases before vanishing out the door, leaving Hwitaek alone in the practice room. 

Hwitaek stares at himself in the mirrors for a long time after that. It might be true that Seungjoon’s clever grin and platinum blond hair appear behind his eyes every time he closes them. It might be true that even the smallest brushes of Seungjoon against his skin makes him burn.

It’s just that, right now, Hwitaek has a lot more to focus on than a small crush, however big it might be. 

  
  


◐

  
  


“Hey,” Hyunggu says, one sunny afternoon. Hwitaek is half lying down on the couch as he replies to the emails that are piled up in his inbox. “Hyojin-hyung’s coming over ‘cause I wanna show him some music.”

Hwitaek shrugs. “Okay,” he replies. 

“Seungjoon-hyung is coming too,” Hyunggu adds. Hwitaek sits up so fast that his head goes dizzy. “Be glad I warned you if you don’t want him seeing you looking like that,” Hyunggu says, tilting his head at Hwitaek, who’s still in his pajamas, his hair a bird’s nest. 

“I don’t need to get dressed up for him,” Hwitaek grumbles. Hyunggu makes a noise of affirmation, but he stands there looking over Hwitaek’s shoulder ominously until Hwitaek acquiesces, which is a typical Hyunggu thing to do.

He still tries not to put too much effort into his appearance, even though the idea of Seungjoon seeing him barefaced and with the cameras off makes his pulse race. After he’s done changing and combing his hair, Hyunggu sneaks up on him again with a pair of dangling earrings that must be his own. Hwitaek just waits as Hyunggu puts them on for him, not even bothering to argue. At this point, he doesn’t really have a backbone when it comes to the kids. 

“I’m not going on a date, Hyunggu-ya,” Hwitaek says. Hyunggu shrugs. 

“You never know,” he replies, and Hwitaek rolls his eyes when Hyunggu’s reflection in the bathroom mirror winks.

Hyojin shows up half past four, and Hwitaek shuffles back to the couch as Hyunggu goes to open the door. His heart rate is still going too fast for a meetup with a friend. 

“Thanks for coming, hyung,” Hyunggu says, and pulls Hyojin in for a hug. Hyojin’s wearing a baseball cap that masks his bright red hair. He turns his head towards Hyunggu’s ear and says something that makes Hyunggu laugh and tug him back to his room. 

Hyojin waves when he passes by, and Hwitaek waves back. Even if Hwitaek was good at reading people, Hyojin’s face hardly shows his thoughts at all, so Hwitaek is left in the dark about what had been said between them. 

Hwitaek looks back to the door. Seungjoon is leaning against the frame, looking effortlessly beautiful. Hwitaek thinks that his hair in the light makes it look like he has a halo. 

“Hwitaek-hyung,” Seungjoon calls, teasing. He’s always teasing. He holds his arms open, as if asking for a hug; when Hwitaek doesn’t respond, Seungjoon pouts. “You’re just gonna leave me hanging like that?” he asks. Hwitaek swallows the rapid beating of his heart and goes over to Seungjoon, reciprocating the hug. Without the insoles that he wears for performances, Seungjoon is short enough that his nose tucks right under Hwitaek’s chin. Hwitaek doesn’t let the hug last too long. 

“There’s this chicken place that I’ve wanted to try for a while if you’re hungry,” Seungjoon suggests as he pulls away. Hwitaek shrugs. 

“Sure, lemme just get my wallet,” Hwitaek replies. He’s pretty sure he left it on his bed from when he’d used his credit card in the morning. 

“That means you’re paying, right?” Seungjoon calls after him. Hwitaek scoffs to himself. 

“Is my money all that I’m good for?” Hwitaek teases, as he comes back to the door, wallet in hand. Seungjoon grins as a wordless response, and reaches to grab Hwitaek’s hand. 

That’s a thing for them—holding hands. It’s not like Hwitaek doesn’t want to be touched, but there’s a wordless agreement between the group that Hwitaek won’t do skinship for the camera the way that the other members will. Even he himself isn’t sure how it started, but the thing is Seungjoon never knew about it. So when he took Hwitaek’s hand and flung his arms around Hwitaek’s neck during practice for their joint performance, it was like a hundred volts of electricity shot up Hwitaek’s spine. The feeling, in a way, is addicting now. 

Hwitaek is usually pretty talkative, but Seungjoon is even more so, and somehow Hwitaek is content to hear him talk all the way from their dorm to the chicken place. They have the same kind of lame humor and the same kind of passion for music and the same kind of weird life, so there are plenty of stories to trade and tell. Getting along with Seungjoon is easier than breathing, not like Hwitaek will ever admit it to anyone. 

When Seungjoon smiles, it’s all teeth, and his eyes scrunch up into half moons. Hwitaek thinks he could probably write a song about that. 

The chicken place _is_ really good, but Hwitaek finds it hard to focus on anything that’s not his companion.

“Hwitaek-hyung, open up,” Seungjoon says, and uses his chopsticks to pick up a chicken wing, and holds it in front of Hwitaek’s mouth. Hwitaek tries not to blush as he takes a bite. Seungjoon looks far too proud of himself. Most of the people in Hwitaek’s life, even his closest friends, have gotten used to calling him Hui but Seungjoon uses his full name without fail, especially when they’re not on broadcast. 

Seungjoon is different from anyone he’s ever met before—a little weird, yeah, but Hwitaek likes that. He likes _Seungjoon_ , he realizes, when Seungjoon reaches over the table with a napkin to dab away the sauce gathered at the corner of Hwitaek’s lips. 

Damn, maybe he does need to call Hyojong. 

The sun is low in the sky by the time they start walking back. Hwitaek, a little loose from the beer he’d ordered and the intoxicating taste of Seungjoon’s fleeting glances, throws his arm around Seungjoon’s shoulder and pulls him close. 

“I know you’re a busy guy, Hwitaek-hyung,” Seungjoon starts, mouth dangerously close to Hwitaek’s ear, “but we should do this more often.” 

Hwitaek swallows. Seungjoon’s hand is curled around Hwitaek’s right hip. “Always got time for you, Seungjoonie,” Hwitaek replies. He means it to be joking, but mortifyingly enough, it comes out sincere. 

They’ve made it to the door. Seungjoon pulls away and gives Hwitaek a dazzling grin. “You’re too cute, hyung,” he says sweetly, and Hwitaek, for once in his life, is goddamn speechless. He copes by turning away and fishing out his key, unlocking the door hastily. 

“Hyunggu-ya,” he shouts into the house. “We’re back!” Hyunggu emerges from his room with Hyojin in tow, and rolls his eyes at Hwitaek like he’s done something stupid. Hyunggu is _such_ a brat. 

“We should probably get back home. Early practice tomorrow,” Hyojin explains. He makes a face as he says it. Hwitaek can relate. 

“Come over more often,” Hyunggu says, then nods at Seungjoon. “You too, hyung.” 

Hwitaek turns around to look at Seungjoon, leaning against the door frame the same way he had earlier in the day as Hyojin tugs on his shoes. “Yeah, of course,” Seungjoon replies, and then winks directly at Hwitaek. “See you soon, hyung.” 

Hwitaek’s face still feels warm with embarrassment after they close the door behind them. “It was totally a date,” Hyunggu says. 

“It was _not_ ,” Hwitaek replies, indignant, and pointedly does not think about the way Seungjoon had held his hand across the table and, every time Hwitaek had looked up at him, given him a very soft smile.

  
  


◐

  
  


Hwitaek calls Hyojong.

“You’re an idiot,” is the first thing the younger man says to him once he’s done pouring out his heart to him for ten whole minutes. Hwitaek is a pretty sensitive guy, but he can’t even disagree with the blunt statement.

“So? What? Does he like me or not?” Hwitaek asks. _Do I love him or not?_ , he thinks. 

“He held your hand and called you cute,” Hyojong replies. “I’m pretty sure that’s enough evidence at this point.” He laughs sharply, in that Hyojong way. “Jesus, this is worse than when Hyuna-noona wanted you to have a threesome with us and literally everything she said flew over your head.” 

“Shut the _fuck_ up,” Hwitaek hisses. He’s successfully repressed that entire period of his life for a reason.

In all honesty, though, he does miss Hyojong, even though the feeling isn’t as sharp and potent as it was two years ago. It’s just, at night, when Hwitaek starts to feel like all of the pieces of his perfectly constructed pentagon are falling apart— 

“I’m not even sure why you need my advice, hyung,” Hyojong continues. “If he makes you happy, then you should go for it, right?” 

They’ve had this conversation before. Hwitaek shrugs, even though Hyojong can’t see it. “Sometimes I just wonder if it’s worth all of the risks.” 

“There’s always risks,” Hyojong agrees, “but at the end of the day, I think, you don’t really have anything else to hold onto. Like money, fame, popularity, and everything, it’s important to us. But you can lose all of that so quickly, you know? But if you have someone you can love, it really doesn’t feel like you lost anything at all.” 

And, despite being younger, Hyojong’s always been more rational. Always known what to say. “So wise of you, Hyojongie,” Hwitaek teases. Hyojong scoffs in response. 

“Just tell me you won’t let this go, okay, hyung? I know you’re too fuckin’ good at punishing yourself, but you deserve this.”

Hwitaek misses Hyojong, if only for this: the simple way he can comfort with only a few words. 

“I like him,” Hwitaek says. “I think he makes me feel like—like I’m worth something more than just, like, how many songs I’ve produced and how good I can sing. Like I’m actually worth something.”

Hyojong laughs, goodnaturedly. “Took long enough for someone to get through your thick skull.”

“Screw you, man,” Hwitaek replies, but he’s laughing too. And the truth is Hwitaek still trusts Hyojong absolutely. It’s the thing that wakes him up from the nights when it feels like everything’s falling apart.

It’s not falling apart. It’s just changing.

  
  


◐

  
  


They don’t end up winning the show. Hwitaek isn’t as sad about it as he thought he would, mostly because he’s noticed how tired everyone is. Changgu sleeps like a rock on the car ride back from filming and Yuto and Wooseok basically have to haul him up the stairs and into their dorm. Hwitaek worries for the three of them sometimes, especially now that Jinho’s enlisted, but all Hwitaek does is worry, so this isn’t anything new. 

Shinwon insists he’s hungry by the time they get home (not unwarranted, considering the last time they’d eaten was the afternoon), so Hongseok whips up a quick batch of ramen. The four of them slurp it down from various positions on the couch and floor. 

Coming home is always odd, going from a packed filming site, to a packed van, to an apartment that practically feels empty in comparison. Hongseok and Shinwon and Hyunggu make it feel like home, though, even though sometimes Hwitaek has to put in headphones just to keep his sanity. 

“It’s cool, you know,” Hwitaek says. It feels like his voice is coming from a thousand miles away. “Third place isn’t bad.”

Hyunggu scoffs in response. “First place would’ve been better, though. Or at least second.” 

“Nah,” Hongseok says. “They deserved it.” 

“Yeah,” Hyunggu replies. “They did.” 

Hwitaek thinks that getting first place is like that final boss battle in a video game that‘s impossible to beat. Even after scrolling through forums and scouring subreddits for tips, every attempt is a loss. Sometimes, to beat a game; all that’s really needed is luck. Hwitaek doesn’t seem to have much of that at all.

Sleep doesn’t come easy that night. Hongseok is working out in his room and Shinwon is playing his Nintendo Switch in the living room and Hyunggu is probably curled up in bed listening to music. Hwitaek taps away at his computer screen, just letting the blue light make his eyes go sore, when his phone vibrates with a text message. 

**seungjoon**

hey

you awake? 

Hwitaek can’t help the way his heart leaps. When they’d talked after it was all over, it was merely platitudes. _You did well_. _You worked so hard._ _It’s okay. Everything will be okay._ But Hwitaek wishes they’d had time for more.

**hui**

yeah 

can’t sleep, you know how it is 

**seungjoon**

me neither 

wanna meet up? 

**hui**

yeah 

where? 

**seungjoon**

aha 

[ _location shared_ ]

The map leads Hwitaek to a park nearby. “I’m going out,” he calls to no one in particular. Hyunggu is the only one who hears, apparently, as he pokes his head out of his room. 

“It’s like one in the morning,” Hyunggu says, suspiciously. 

“Seungjoon asked me if—” Hwitaek starts, but he’s cut off by Hyunggu’s sharp laugh. 

“Okay, hyung, get your man,” Hyunggu replies slyly. He slips out of his door and runs down the hall to the bathroom where Hongseok is taking a shower. He bangs on the door and yells, “Hongseok-hyung! Hui-hyung’s finally making a move on Seungjoon-hyung!” 

“Holy shit, finally!” Hongseok’s muffled voice yells back, and Hyunggu quickly withdraws back into his room before Hwitaek can start denying it. 

Then again, there’s not much there to deny. Hwitaek’s (almost) fully accepted that he likes Seungjoon. That he wants him. 

“Have fun,” Shinwon says, smirking, from the couch as Hwitaek leaves, meaning that he probably heard the entire conversation. Sometimes, Hwitaek hates his friends. 

The night is cool, just enough so that Hwitaek puts on his jacket but leaves it unzipped. He stops by a convenience store to buy two banana milks, and when another customer gives him an odd glance like they’ve seen him before, books it out of there faster than they could say Basquiat. 

When he finds the tiny park, just a field of grass with a bench and a few trees, it’s easy to spot Seungjoon, his pale hair sticking out in the darkness against the backrest of the bench. Now, Hwitaek thinks it looks quite like moonlight. 

“Hey,” Hwitaek greets when he gets close enough. “Got you something.” He tosses the banana milk carton at Seungjoon who catches it easily and gives him a smile. He looks absolutely exhausted, but Hwitaek understands. 

Hwitaek sits down next to Seungjoon and they sip at the milk quietly. When they finish, Hwitaek tosses the empty bottles into the trash can on the opposite side of the armrest. 

“I’m tired,” Seungjoon states. “Can I lean my head on your shoulder?” 

“Yeah,” Hwitaek agrees easily. Seungjoon is warm against him and his hair tickles the nape of Hwitaek’s neck, but it’s not uncomfortable at all. Nothing with Seungjoon has ever been uncomfortable. Hwitaek doesn’t consider himself an approachable person, but Seungjoon makes him open his heart so easily, just like that. 

“How’re you feeling?” Hwitaek asks, after long minutes of silence. He feels Seungjoon’s answering shrug against him.

“I’ve lost before,” Seungjoon replies, matter of factly. “Nothing new, really, except we got a little closer this time.”

“God, that’s depressing,” Hwitaek says, because he knows Seungjoon will understand. There is something a little depressing about being in your upper twenties and losing to a bunch of kids, as talented as said kids are. 

“Yeah,” Seungjoon says, half laughing. “But it wasn’t the worst, right? Like, I got to meet you.” 

Hwitaek’s mouth goes dry. “Yeah,” he replies lamely. He hadn’t really realized that, even if he knows what he wants, he can’t say for sure if Seungjoon wants it too. Seungjoon makes a small noise under his breath, and grabs Hwitaek’s wrist. 

“How many hints do I have to give you until you suck it up and kiss me, hyung?” he asks. _Oh_ , Hwitaek thinks.

“Oh,” Hwitaek says. His face feels warm. He looks around at the park where they’re sitting, right in the middle of a still-busy street. “Uh…not here?” 

“Fine,” Seungjoon replies and pulls away from Hwitaek, tugs him to his feet. “Take me to your place then.” 

“Yeah,” Hwitaek says. Yes, he’s stupid, but now he’s looking at Seungjoon’s face and he’s—he’s really pretty. 

“Yeah?” Seungjoon echoes. He’s looking back. 

“Let me just—text the others,” Hwitaek says and pulls out his phone with the hand that isn’t in Seungjoon’s. Seungjoon lets go, and Hwitaek misses it immediately.

**hui**

seungjoon’s coming back to our place

if any of you make a SOUND. i will make you run laps before practice tomorrow or so help me god 

**hongseok**

haha 

>:3c

 **shinwonie**

i think ur the one who needs to worry about making sounds hyung :) 

**kino**

lol don’t fuck up hyung 

Hwitaek looks back up from his phone. “Your face is a little red,” Seungjoon points out. 

“Let’s just go,” Hwitaek grumbles, and Seungjoon laughs. His eyes sparkle in the lamplight. 

Hwitaek’s heart beats at double speed all the way back home. The lights are off when they get in, which means the others had taken Hwitaek’s advice and retreated to their rooms. Hwitaek doesn’t even bother turning them on again, just toes off his shoes at the entrance and pulls Seungjoon into his room. 

Seungjoon doesn’t waste any time. He gently shoves Hwitaek towards his desk chair, and when Hwitaek sits down, he climbs into his lap with ease, his knees straddling Hwitaek’s hips. 

“You want this, right, hyung?” Seungjoon asks. 

“Yeah,” Hwitaek says, already breathless, and Seungjoon bends to press their lips together. 

Hwitaek hasn’t kissed someone in over a year, but he tries his best. Seungjoon seems to like it well enough, because he twists his hands in Hwitaek’s hair and fuses their bodies together. Most of all, Hwitaek likes the way Seungjoon breathes into him, heavy and sweet, like they’re one person instead of two. 

“Hwitaek-hyung,” Seungjoon says, after successfully kissing down his cheek and jawline and settling comfortably into Hwitaek’s lap. “You should date me.” 

“Really?” Hwitaek asks. His hands unconsciously fly to Seungjoon’s waist. “You want to date me?” 

Seungjoon rolls his eyes. “Yes. I like you. Isn’t it obvious?” 

“Sorry, I’m kind of an idiot,” Hwitaek replies. Seungjoon giggles and kisses Hwitaek on the corner of his mouth. It’s all too flustering, but Hwitaek makes the effort to keep speaking. “I want what you want,” he continues. “I’ll date you, Seungjoon-ah. Or try to, at least.” 

“I’m pretty low maintenance,” Seungjoon says. “You can handle it.” 

Hwitaek smiles so wide it makes his cheeks hurt. He isn’t sure how long they kiss, but eventually Seungjoon starts to yawn. Hwitaek can’t blame him—it’s been a long day. 

“Sleep over?” he asks. 

“Only if we actually sleep,” Seungjoon replies with a teasing grin. 

Hwitaek _refuses_ to blush. “We’ll actually sleep,” he assures and shifts Seungjoon off of his lap. “Do you wanna borrow something to sleep in?”

Seungjoon makes a noise of affirmation. Hwitaek looks through his closet and finds flannel pants and a loose shirt. He tosses them back to Seungjoon and pointedly doesn’t look as they both change. 

Instead of getting into bed, Seungjoon slides up to Hwitaek from behind and wraps his arms around his waist. He stands up on his tiptoes and hooks his chin over Hwitaek’s shoulder. “Hwitaekie, you’re cute,” he says. The informality makes Hwitaek’s stomach flip, and Seungjoon lets go before Hwitaek can respond. He shouldn’t be surprised that Seungjoon wants to be the big spoon when they cuddle up together, but he is anyway. 

Hwitaek can’t help it. “Tell me why you like me,” he asks. Seungjoon laughs against Hwitaek’s neck.

“Well, you’re pretty,” he starts, “and talented and sweet. You’re cute when you get excited or passionate about something. It makes me want to know more about you.” 

“That could be anyone,” Hwitaek replies, but Seungjoon shakes his head. 

“There’s no one else like you, hyung,” Seungjoon says, so matter of factly that it makes Hwitaek’s response dry up on his tongue. “Now, stay still and let me relax or I’ll kick you out of your own bed,” he finishes firmly and tightens his grip around Hwitaek. 

When Hwitaek wakes up in the morning, when he throws himself headfirst back into dance practice and music production and everything in between, he’ll feel the intense ache in his muscles and realize that, no matter how much it hurts, there’s no quitting this endless marathon. But it’s okay, because right now, in Seungjoon’s arms, he’s invincible. 

Hwitaek smiles. Sleep comes easy that night.

**Author's Note:**

> haha.....pls leave kudos/a comment if u enjoyed!


End file.
